Life is Trifling
by RedBarron
Summary: Sonnets of quarrelling between Zuko and Katara about Zuko's proposal. With some unexpected twist and turns between the two. Reviews would be appreciated.
1. Zuko Poem

What is life? A trifling thing, to call it  
A happiness of sorts, my dear, the lust  
Which beacons us forever on to dust.  
Deprived then all our senses, and our wit

Then what then do we do with our short time  
That falls like grains of sand upon the beach?  
Should we loathe and charge into the breach?  
Or sing out hearts in all our gaily rhymes?

Those deeply thoughts, are for the deeply mind  
For ne'er would I consider such things so kind  
as your eyes that burns brightly upon my heart

And I do count myself among those last  
Who shall thus die contented when they pass  
For you from out my soul, shall ne'er depart


	2. Katara Poem

Prince, dear prince, mistaken is thine haughty jest  
Never would I bind my ship on tainted land  
For yours is like the barren gritty sand.  
No mooring firm, no wind beneath my crest

Do not take this act like broken spears  
No vengeance do I garner from your eyes  
Nor let the fouler wind be filled with sighs.  
Rejoice, my prince, and cast away your tears

Every bird doth have a mating call  
And every bird must also have a mate  
But I am not thine lifelong bondage slave

Ne'er let your heart be sadden to the fall  
For in one day, we all will meet our fate  
So try anew, and let that be your save


	3. Zuko's Response

Cruelly your mouth would call me only sand  
To blow with all the wind, upon the tide  
And in my moor your ship would not confide  
My shallow depth does not your ship demand

And bondage slave, what fitting sound you say  
;be you but slave to mighty kings of late?  
How much trust you proclaim in mighty fate  
And like the sand; in all the wind you sway.

My soul is like a rock upon the land  
Not quite as hollow as the beachy sand  
But firm, unmoving stone, cold or hot

Hypocrisy is a but name for men  
Who earn their lives in every type of sin  
To which your happy name is wholly not


	4. Katara's Rebuke

My lord, persistence is not a virtue  
of the strong, or of the highly minded  
It would suit you better to refine it.  
Broader is the mind of broader views

You are not a lover; of any kind  
who doth not love another but your own  
For if you truly loved me, you'd have shown;  
And praise of all the choices that are mine

Your mind is set, and your heart is fickle  
You are a tyrant to those lowly sods  
You are so apt to call just hypocrites

Neither of my fancy to do you tickle  
So send not again, your man to thus trod  
Be content, my heart is not won by wits


	5. Zuko's Redress

Then what shall suit thee, my goodly woman?  
To know one's way is to think forlorn  
The course thy ship will steer on morrows morn.  
Serves to undermine your noble token.

Why art thou so haughty in thine jesting  
If your mind doth dwell in many places?  
Or art thou but clown with many faces  
And my noble patience simply testing?

Take good heed, and listen very sharply,  
all the world of is but thin and tartly  
Sorrow is ours to bear unto our end

Do not be lured by many fabled lies  
And so with my pen as I doth prescribe  
With newest poem, a messenger doth send.


	6. Courier's Poem

My weary legs trek o'er the rocky ground  
Upon the royal turnpike once again  
A message in my satchel I will send  
And in my weary voice shall I expound

To that dainty maiden a poem brisk  
From my master's pen, on paper scribéd  
of his modest love, as he describes it.  
And in many words, all the prizes risk.

I practice many times the silver tongue  
With all the precious air inside my lungs  
His words from out my mind are not so faint

So I muster all my wit and charming  
and sing you; my vivid girl and darling  
a poem, which I bid you hold constraint


	7. Katara's Lamet

War, my prince, can that be the awful case?  
What know you sir, these traitors of the peace?  
What I know of them, is at best, the least  
That's why I ask your most enlightened face.

I am scarred by treason's awful ravage.  
For all before me have been put to sword  
And all my friends alive speak not a word  
But have fled like birds before the savage.

So no more shall I bother write to thee  
All love is gone from out my tortured mind.  
Please write to me in comfort, not in shame

But will we ever one another see?  
Or in some wayward place will our conscious find?  
But would anything ever be the same?


	8. Warrior Zuko Prepares

Drums are drumming tidings that I have learned.  
What newest war do they proclaim of late?  
What is the scourge of us that now awaits?  
What crumbled body will our pity earn?

Shadows evil, all around us churning  
Nightmares dreamt have become so real.  
And happiness from our souls they harshly steal  
And our golden land shall soon be burning.

The men upon the wind have dealt so cruel  
That our humble houses now burn as fuel  
Testament to men and all their hating

So I with saber on my horse shall ride  
To meet the foe, and turn the dying tide  
Though I go to certain death that's waiting


	9. Final Poem

This is what it has come to at the last  
My life blood draining on the battle field.  
Brave, for in battle never did I yield  
And I die content, with you, as I pass.

(_Continued with different handwriting)_

His bones are cold and weary near this place  
Where valor was never lacking good men  
So with last breaths did I his side attend  
As he whispered much of his maiden's face.

He asked you your forgiveness on his deeds  
For he sought to contend you of your needs.  
And hands to you his sacred olive grove.

He bid you reflect on his final poem  
And say he did not thusly die alone.  
For you were truly with him, in your love.

* * *

_To all my readers,_

_I take this time to apologize to the noble reader, in part for following the correspondence this far and to have it come to such an abrupt end. Though while I know the reader is dissatisfied, I would also take this time to explain the reasons why the story has stopped in such a disagreeable manner._

_A good friend of mine, who I have known for many years, had just recently at his postal office (where he is employed) had the task of cleaning out the receivers mail (that is; mail left in the post office for somebody to pick up at a latter time) from the countless years of it's existence. These letters were deemed past their expiry date for retrial so it was necessary to get rid of them. So my friend and I, me wanting to help out my comrade, on this Saturday morning, set about the task of collecting them_

_This letters by mention, were very old, and bore many disadvantageous marks. It was only by luck that I should have come across them, for there were, at my calculations, at least a good 30 score of them all identical in presence and appearance. Most the letters I glanced over were of petty trifles and what the reader might consider junk-mail. Nevertheless, the envelope into which these poems were sealed, caught my fancy, and thus, led to me to open said envelope._

_It was then, that I learned upon further inspection, that these poems were masterfully well written, showing extraordinary talent in rhyme and meter, and so delicately written that their worth could not possibly be determined below at least 1,000 dollars to some perspective buyer at auction. The latter option interesting me deeply, but instead, I also realized what joy I received in reading these poems, and again, remarking on the talent of the people who wrote them, that I thought it better to share it with all of you instead of having it rot away in some private collection._

_But let us address the problem from the start. After discussing the aforementioned problem of finishing the work, I had many solutions put before me. My other friend, who I also share a most amiable friendship with, asked if I would not endow my talent and perhaps write a resolution to such a tragedy. After all, he argued, would it not be better for the reader? _

_I had to disagree, and say that anything I could write, would never be to the liking of reader, or meet his or her expectations. Which is why I finally came to the consensus, that the story is more artistically rendered by leaving the poems intact, and not inventing a story, which on top of not __pleasing the reader, might also count as a fictitious lie, as I have not the foggiest idea of what actually happened between these people. It is therefore, on that account as well, I based my decision._

_I again plead to the reader for his or her forgiveness, and lay myself at their feet. Knowing full well what they had expected. And only ask that they may read this explanation and understand my reasons, so that they might not judge me so harshly. _

_Sincerely and Humbly Yours, _

_RedBarron_


End file.
